


Every Time the Weed Wears Off I Panic Again

by purple_bookcover



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ball Sucking, Candy, Drugs, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, sex while high, tripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26544895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover
Summary: Suga and Oikawa trip (on drugs) together and Suga discovers that Oikawa tastes like candy. He explores this VERY thoroughly.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 104





	Every Time the Weed Wears Off I Panic Again

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Drugs. Like, obviously.

“Why are we coloring?”

Suga didn’t mind. It was kinda soothing, in a way. He thought maybe he was beginning to understand the appeal of all those “adult” coloring books. The cat he was attempting to color had about a billion little criss crossing designs in it, forcing him to focus on one tiny square at a time.

“Just trust me,” Oikawa said. “Keep coloring.” 

Suga did. For one thing, it was kinda nice. For another, it pushed down the tide of panic that wanted to bubble up his throat. 

There was nothing to panic about. Oikawa knew what he was doing. The stuff was safe. He’d sworn to Suga that it was totally safe. They just had to chill and let it set in. 

It was weird to think that a tiny little square of paper was something to be stressed out over, but that’s all it’d been, as far as Suga could see. “Just let it sit under your tongue for a while,” Oikawa had said. Suga had expected _something_. A weird taste or maybe a tingle in his mouth or just _something._ But so far all he’d done was eat a piece of paper and sit around coloring a cat who was now boring into his soul.

Suga blinked. 

So did the cat.

He stared, captivated by bright green eyes he’d colored himself. They seemed to bubble off the page, getting more vivid even as he watched, like someone was turning up the saturation on the whole world.

Oikawa flopped onto the carpet. He sprawled out, arms spread wide, staring up at the ceiling. He had a lollipop in his mouth and as Suga watched he popped it out. Everywhere the candy touched was stained radioactive red, bright as some sort of signal fire in the dark. 

“C’mere,” Oikawa said.

Suga abandoned his colored pencils and crawled toward Oikawa. He stayed perched over Oikawa, staring at the stain on his lips, like Oikawa had a single strip of lipstick on. 

“You feel it?” Oikawa said. 

“I … think so,” Suga said. 

He’d forgotten all about the strip of paper and what it was meant to do. The reminder jerked his attention away from Oikawa’s mouth. Suga looked around the living room: the table with coloring supplies now off to one side, the couches they weren’t sitting on for some reason, the standing lamp that now warped like some crawling vine. When his eyes reached the ceiling, he found that it was pulsing, literally, beating like an enormous heart. The swirls of plaster were veins. The white was splashed in color. 

A laugh drew his attention back down. Oikawa was stroking Suga’s arm, face bright with mirth.

“Yeah, you’re feeling it,” he said. 

Oikawa popped the lollipop back into his mouth, but yanked it out a second later. More stains splotched his lips, gems laid atop soft velvet. 

Suga found that he couldn’t just look anymore. He leaned down toward those bright jewels. 

“Oh,” Oikawa said, but he didn’t pull away and he didn’t stop stroking Suga’s arm. 

Suga sucked one of those spots into his mouth, tasting the sweetness of it, the scorching saturation. Then he moved to the next and the next, exploring each little bit of Oikawa’s lips in turn. Some parts were sweeter than others, but even the places that were just Oikawa were almost unbearably delicious. 

Oikawa moaned and put a hand behind Suga’s head, pressing him down so that Suga had to taste Oikawa’s entire mouth at once. It was nearly too much, all that riot of different sounds and colors and tastes, all that sugary sweetness clashing against the musky essence of Oikawa himself. 

Suga pulled back, realizing he needed air and could not survive just off the breath they could share between them. Oikawa was staring up at him, but it was hard to look him in the eyes just then, way too hard. 

So Suga didn’t. He let his gaze fall, trickling down until it found the smooth, sleek expanse of Oikawa’s neck. That might have enticed Suga, but there was something lower, a bright patch of exposed skin right at Oikawa’s hip where his shirt had pulled up just a little. 

Suga swallowed. He shuffled down, dragged by forces that made a mockery of mere gravity. When he pressed his lips to that triangle of vulnerable skin, Oikawa gasped and jerked. Suga kissed it, just once, then looked up. 

Oikawa was bright. His whole face was bright. His eyes. Those cherry-stained lips. He met Suga’s gaze for a horrible, long heartbeat. Suga thought he might die in that look, might get trapped right like this for the rest of his life.

Finally, Oikawa nodded and the spell broke.

Suga dove, kissing that patch of light at Oikawa’s hip. Oikawa gasped and squirmed. Suga kissed a little lower, nudging at the waistband of Oikawa’s pants, seeing how far the elastic would allow him to push. Every bit more was a gift, a precious gift Suga meant to savor. He didn’t even realize how far he’d dipped until he nosed up against Oikawa’s hard cock. 

Suga paused. Oikawa’s pants were askew, but still covering him. Even through them, Suga could see that Oikawa was completely hard. Some tiny, sober shred of Suga’s mind balked, remembering that this was not what he’d come here for, that they’d never so much as kissed before today, that he was probably high as balls and so was Oikawa and was that OK? 

Oikawa whined, shifting his hips. When Suga glanced up at him, he was gnawing on a finger, eyebrows curling like he was in pain. In his other hand, he had the lollipop.

Suga made several decisions all at once then. He grabbed the lollipop and shoved it into his mouth even as he tugged down Oikawa’s sweatpants. The searing sweetness of the candy burned Suga’s mouth and he popped it back out, tossing it onto the carpet. Then he lowered his mouth and kissed all the bright, burning, annihilating sweetness along Oikawa’s length. 

Oikawa moaned as Suga kissed down him. Each press of Suga’s lips stained Oikawa’s cock, creating a monochromatic patchwork. When Suga made it all the down to Oikawa’s balls, he simply continued, moving a bit more gently. 

It became more difficult to tell what Suga had managed to stain with the candy. He licked and sucked, gently taking one ball into his mouth. And that’s when he realized it – there was no difference. The lollipop had deceived him, its overwhelming sweetness blinding Suga to the truth. 

Oikawa himself was candy.

It wasn’t metaphorical. As Suga sucked, as Oikawa squirmed and his moans spiked higher in pitch, Suga realized with absolute certainty that Tooru Oikawa was made of candy. For what was candy but sugar condensed into some intelligible shape? What was candy but something sweet and delicious that you enjoyed having in your mouth? What part of that definition didn’t apply to Oikawa? He was certainly sweet and delicious and Suga certainly enjoyed having him in his mouth. 

It seemed then like the simplest truth in all the world. Suga moved to the other ball even as he contemplated it. It settled through him, a surety, an absolute truth he would never need to question. 

Suga moved slowly. There was no need to rush, no reason not to savor every second of this. The only task in all the world that felt important that day was having Tooru Oikawa’s balls in his mouth.

He started using his tongue. Perhaps it would be more precise in lapping up the sweetness. Perhaps it could push into some new place Suga had overlooked. He traced, wandering aimlessly, and when he licked between and then up, back up the hard length of Oikawa’s cock, he discovered a bead of wetness at the tip, a jewel even brighter than those gems shimmering on Oikawa’s lips. 

He lowered his whole mouth over it. How could he not? How could he neglect something so very obvious? 

Oikawa whined, hips shimmying. It was such a nice sound, Suga thought, such an expressive sound. Suga couldn’t imagine needing whole words when that simpering little cry could do all the work on its own. 

Suga lowered, feeling the stretch in his mouth, testing how far he could go, exploring the sensation of fullness. It was nice. It was like feeling complete, like throwing on a beanie on a cold day and suddenly feeling cozier. He lingered there, with Oikawa’s cock nearly to his throat, just feeling, letting his tongue wander, letting the sensations overlap like conflicting tides beating down the same shoreline. Suga didn’t mind too much if the waves wore him down. 

“Suga,” Oikawa rasped.

Oh. Oh, Suga had been wrong about words. He’d been tremendously wrong. There was one word that still had meaning, one word better than plaintive whines and throaty moans. 

The moment Oikawa used his name, Suga’s whole body crackled and sparked, buzzing with energy he needed to use lest he explode from it. 

He dragged back up, using a hand to steady Oikawa’s cock so he could plunge right back down. The shift from stillness to frantic bobbing was abrupt and jarring – for Oikawa as well, judging by his moaning – but Suga felt like he had no choice. There was a fire inside him and the only way he wouldn’t be consumed was by sucking Oikawa’s cock just as hard and fast as he could.

Oikawa muttered nonsense, more noise than actual words. When he got a hand in Suga’s hair, it was Suga making sounds, a moan crawling out from deep, deep in his chest, like a fissure in the earth suddenly cracking open and emitting a gush of heat and steam. 

Oikawa felt it. Suga knew from the way his hips bucked up, from the way his hand tightened so much in Suga’s hair that it actually hurt. Suga groaned around the pain. After so much sugary sweetness, it was beautiful and sharp and clear. 

“S-Suga,” Oikawa gasped. “Suga, watch out. I-I’m gonna--” 

But Suga couldn’t have pulled back even if he wanted to. And he did not want to. He _needed_ to be here. He needed to keep his lips tightly wrapped around Oikawa. If he stopped, he very well may perish. 

Something hit his tongue, a tiny sputter, but there was more, he knew there was more. Oikawa was tugging his hair even harder, holding Suga down on his cock, arching his hips up so Suga could take him deeper. 

The rest arrived in a gush. 

If Suga could have gasped, he might have. It was bitter and strange, so different from the lollipops, the gems and jewels and bright things. That only made sense, though. This was something deeper, truer, the bare essence of Oikawa himself. Suga could only feel grateful as it spilled down his throat. 

It ended, eventually. Suga might have been sad, but he realized it was just those waves receding, pulling back like all tides do so they can gather up again.

He eased off Oikawa’s cock slowly, gingerly. It was strange having his mouth empty and unoccupied. He looked for the lollipop, but it was now stuck to the fibers of the carpet. 

“Suga.” 

He turned to the voice. Oikawa was flushed, chest still swelling as his breathing evened out. 

“What the fuck, man?” 

Suga shrugged. 

Oikawa laughed, throwing an arm over his eyes for a moment. “This is the craziest trip of my life, dude. C’mere.” 

Suga crawled toward Oikawa, who pushed up onto his hands and fixed his disheveled sweatpants. Oikawa slipped a hand behind Suga’s head, watching him for an agonizing heartbeat of terrifying eye contact. Then he leaned forward, kissing along Suga’s cheek, sucking at the spot right under Suga’s eye.

“Mmm,” Oikawa murmured. “You taste like candy.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover) (18+ please).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


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